


Music of the Night (Out)

by EvalynnMesserli, MeinongsJungleBook



Series: In which Windblade, Starscream and Bumblebee share a shamelessly sugary Happily Ever After together because no force in the universe can stop us [4]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Bickering, Fluff, Karaoke, Love, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, Restaurants, Teasing, happiness, night out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26213776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvalynnMesserli/pseuds/EvalynnMesserli, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeinongsJungleBook/pseuds/MeinongsJungleBook
Summary: Bumblebee, Starscream and Windblade go downtown for date night.
Relationships: Bumblebee/Starscream (Transformers), Bumblebee/Starscream/Windblade (Transformers), Bumblebee/Windblade (Transformers), Starscream/Windblade (Transformers)
Series: In which Windblade, Starscream and Bumblebee share a shamelessly sugary Happily Ever After together because no force in the universe can stop us [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1457029
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15
Collections: Windscream Week Works





	Music of the Night (Out)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Windscream Week 2020 prompts "Fun Night Out", "Fluff", and "OT3".

“He’s late,” Starscream grumbled from his place on the couch. Windblade couldn’t help but roll her optics fondly at the sight of him pouting (though he’d insist it wasn’t actual pouting if she brought it up) over Bumblebee running a bit behind.

“He probably just got stuck in a meeting,” she told him. “He’ll be here soon. You know how much he was looking forward to tonight.”

“That isn’t stopping him from being late.” Now he was just being grumpy and stubborn.

Windblade sighed and shook her helm ever so slightly before making her way over to a pouty Starscream and sat down next to him. She stared at him, one optic ridge raised as she waited for him to acknowledge her presence beside him.

It took him about twenty kliks before he finally glanced at her. “What?” he snapped, pulling a face that had her laughing quietly. His gaze softened a smidge.

“You’re cute when you’re pouting,” she told him, her next laugh far from quiet at the look of exaggerated and betrayed hurt on his face.

“I am not pouting!” he practically screeched. There was the denial.

Windblade tried to stop her snickering, but every time she thought she had control she would look over and see Starscream glaring at her and she would break down again. It wasn’t even that funny if she was honest. There was just something about his expression that had her dying. It was apparently to the point that she didn’t even hear the door opening.

“Ok, what’d I miss?” Windblade managed to get a hold of herself long enough to look and see Bee looking between the two of them with an amused expression.

“It appears Windblade has caught some kind of laughing glitch and is dying because of it,” Starscream oh-so-helpfully informed him, placing a hand on her arm as he sighed wistfully. “I’m afraid we’ll have to have our date night without her.”

“Aft,” Windblade giggled, playfully shoving Starscream. Bee grinned and plopped himself in the middle of the couch, worming his way between them, giggling himself as they gave him matching looks of fake annoyance.

“What a shame,” Bee teased, playing along. “And here I thought I’d get to spend a night with my two sweetsparks.” Windblade smiled at him, leaning in for a quick kiss as Starscream pretended to gag at the sappy term of endearment. Bee’s kisses were always so wonderful and Windblade couldn’t get enough of them, whether they be deep and passionate or short and sweet.

Bee’s optics were bright once she pulled away, face soft as he gazed up at her. Windblade could never help but feel gorgeous whenever he looked at her all lovingly like that, like all of his dreams were coming true just by her existing. Of course, the moment had to be broken with a loud “hrrmph” from Starscream.

Bee shot him a playful look. “Is someone pouting because he’s not getting enough attention?” he cooed, looping his arms around Starscream’s, snuggling in close.

“I do not pout! What is with both of you and assuming I do!” 

“That’s because you do it all the time,” Windblade snarked, causing Bee to giggle again.

“It’s not assuming if it’s what actually happens,” he chimed in. Starscream huffed and rolled his optics, slipping his arm out of Bee’s hold, apparently choosing not to acknowledge their teasing for once. 

“Whatever,” he grumpily said. “I’m going to ignore your delusions in favor of reminding you that we are late for date night. So Bumblebee, please go get cleaned up so we can leave.” He made a shooing motion with his hand, clearly expecting Bee to stand and head to the wash racks. Of course, as usual, his expectations involving Bee were pretty much immediately shattered.

“What?” Bee questioned. “I had a shower yesterday. We can just go.”

Starscream looked at Bee in horror. “Please tell me you’re joking,” he said. “There’s no way you actually think that you’re in any state to actually go out.”

“What’s wrong with the way I look right now!” Bee snapped, standing up, his optics narrowing. Windblade leaned back against the couch, knowing exactly where this was going. Bee and Starscream often bickered, their personalities being just the right mix of similarities and differences to have them fondly annoyed at each other all the time. Bee was usually a pretty easy-going mech, but Starscream always managed to get him going, and Starscream liked to push buttons in general, which led the two of them to clash over the littlest things. Windblade was convinced it was just their way of flirting.

“You’re covered in dirt!” Starscream exclaimed, gesturing to the slight bit of dust that had gathered on Bee. “At least rinse off and put on some polish!”

“It’s a tiny bit of dust. It’s not like I’m caked in mud or anything.”

“Oh, as if that would stop you.”

“Well sorry that not all of us feel the need to spend five hours every day obsessing over getting rid of every little speck of dust that appears.”

“Some of us actually like being clean!”

“Some of us like being normal!”

“Windblade!” Starscream whined, turning to her. “Tell Bee the importance of actually being clean for once.”

“No,” Bee cut in before she could get a word out. “Tell Starscream why he’s being a nag over nothing.”

“You’re the nag!”

“Then why are you doing the nagging!”

“I am not nagging!”

“Windblade!” The both turned to her again, optics begging her to take their side and see just how unreasonable the other was being. Sadly for them, she was enjoying this way too much, easily able to imagine them falling in love through bickering.

“Sorry,” she told them, raising her hands up slightly, “I’m not taking sides in this. You two are on your own.”

They both glared at her, Starscream even muttering a quick “traitor” before they continued their argument that went from Bee’s bathing habits to Starscream’s desire for what Bee saw as useless clutter and Starscream himself said was décor. It was amusing to watch them go at it because of how heated they always got. Windblade would step in if it got too serious, not wanting an actual fight to break out, but for now was content to just sit back as they worked themselves up a bit over dust and Starscream’s taste when it came to interior design.

“Alright, I have an idea!” Bee suddenly exclaimed, cutting Starscream off mid-sentence. “We didn’t have anything solid planned for tonight, so how about we go to a spa. I heard there was a new one that opened up nearby. I’ll get cleaned up there _and_ we’ll stop wasting time by arguing. How does that sound?” He held his arms out, giving Starscream and Windblade room to protest if they wanted. Neither did though. Starscream had a thoughtful look on his face and Windblade had to admit to herself that it had been a good while since she’d done anything similar. It was both a good compromise and a good idea in general.

“I think that sounds fun,” she said, sitting forward. Both she and Bee turned to look expectantly at Starscream, waiting for his answer. He looked like he was having an internal debate with himself about something.

Ultimately, he sighed dramatically and shrugged, trying to seem disinterested, but Windblade could see the way his optics brightened. “I guess if you insist,” he said. “But this had better be at the very least a decent spa.”

***

So, Bee might not have been telling the full truth when it came to what exactly the spa was when he mentioned it to Windblade and Starscream. He hadn’t lied to them or anything like that, but he knew they were expecting some kind of Cybertronian spa with oil baths and the like, and not a human car wash that had been tweaked and expanded upon to accommodate Cybertronians.

Oops.

“What the slag is this!” Starscream indignantly exclaimed, lip curled in disgust. “I thought we were going to a spa, not some dumb human car wash.” 

“Technically, it’s both,” Bee tried, gesturing at the extra bits that weren’t part of a normal car wash. Starscream just gave him a look of disgust.

“I don’t know, Bee,” Windblade said. “I’ll admit I don’t know much about car washes, but if it’s a human thing then it’s probably not properly made for us. And even if it is, it’s a _car_ wash. That doesn’t sound like it includes jets.”

“That’s just it though, it does include jets. And beastmodes and non-vehicle alt-modes and almost everything else,” he informed them, hoping Starscream wasn’t ignoring him. “I know it’s not a standard spa like you were expecting, but the humans in charge of it really put a lot of thought and effort into making it accessible to everyone. Besides, I’ve been to quite a few car washes in my day and they’re actually a good way to get clean in alt-mode.”

Windblade still looked a little hesitant, but seemed to be coming around to the idea. Starscream on the other hand had that glint in his optic that meant he was going to be as stubborn as possible.

“And what about the jet part, hmm?” he asked, waving his hand in the general direction of the extra bits. “How do you know that’s any good? Just because your part might be, doesn’t mean that will.”

Primus give him strength. Bee couldn’t help but feel a smudge of sympathy for the bot that was their bodyguard for the night. It couldn’t have been pleasant to be stuck following three bickering bots around all night.

“Considering one of the owners knows how to clean Earth jets, then it would make sense that he has a decent idea on how to do the same for Cybertronians,” Bee tried. Starscream just narrowed his optics and crossed his arms in a way that clearly said that he wasn’t buying it.

“Maybe we should give it a try,” Windblade cut in, reach out to place her hand on Starscream’s shoulder. “It might be a bit weird, but it wouldn’t hurt to at least try, right? And Bee does know a lot about Earth and humans and all that. Definitely more than both of us.” Bee internally cheered. He’d gotten one of them hooked.

“And why should I?” Starscream questioned, but Bee could see that he was cracking under both of them. He just needed to deliver the final blow.

“Because you love us _so_ much that you’re willing to try a little something new,” Bee said, moving to stand on the other side of Starscream and taking his hand, effectively trapping him between them, and giving his biggest and brightest smile he was capable of. Specifically the one he knew Starscream had a hard time resisting, especially with Windblade giving her own, subtler version. Starscream looked at the two of them before he threw his helm back and groaned in submission.

“Fine,” he grumbled, “but only because I know you won’t stop nagging me about it until I give in. And know,” he turned to glare at Windblade, “that I do not appreciate you betraying me twice in one night.”

Windblade just laughed and leaned in to give him a quick kiss. “I love you too.” 

Bee had to laugh at the way Starscream tried to keep looking grumpy yet failed horribly as he struggled to fight off a smile. 

“So now that you two are done doubting me, I think it’s time we actually go in and try it out rather than just loitering outside.”

“Fine, if you insist,” Windblade cheerily said, pulling Starscream behind her as they entered the building, Bee unable to keep the smug grin off his face.

***

The aroma of various flavours of energon mixed with the smell of fresh wax, the latter of which emanated from Starscream and his pair of lovers. Starscream had to admit (to himself) that he felt exquisitely clean, but he also felt somewhat uncomfortable with the fact that his cleanliness was thanks to humans wielding high-pressure hoses, who had aimed them at places Starscream hadn’t ever wanted humans to have anything to do with. How good it had felt was something he was not yet ready to admit to anyone. 

And the foam. There had been so much foam.

Life had never really allowed Starscream much of a comfort zone, but Bumblebee and Windblade had made a concerted effort to push him into weird and awkward situations that even he had mostly managed to avoid up to this point. But he supposed being forced out of his old, cold comfort zone was the trade-off for experiencing more overall comfort, warmth and tenderness now than he’d ever before known in his life.

Starscream was sure that if it wasn’t for the two bots who had apparently somehow gotten him to fall for them, he wouldn’t have been in this restaurant in the first place. It wasn’t the fact that it was Eukarian or anything like that, but everything was modelled after different human and organic dishes despite being made primarily of energon. Yet another attempt of the populace trying to blend the two together.

If he’d been on his own, he would have skipped it over in favor of something more familiar and less alien, but they had a list of restaurants they planned on going to and this was on it. They hadn’t missed one yet and they weren’t about to start now. Inside, a conveyer belt carrying little dishes snaked around the restaurant, with the seated patrons snatching up whatever weird looking concoction caught their optic as it meandered past.

Bee seemed to be excited, already having a mountain of half-eaten food piled onto his plate. Starscream watched with amusement as Bee tried to make it through some kind of spongy thing with a wrapper around the bottom half with the top frosted with energon crystals before getting distracted by another dish going past and forgetting about the one in his hand entirely as he made a grab for it. There were bits of energon and other things on his face, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Starscream wouldn’t admit it aloud, at least not in this place where anyone could hear, but he was glad Bee seemed to be enjoying himself. Bee rarely ever relaxed and just did what made him happy, always trying to please others and make them happy. It was nice to see him just having fun.

Windblade on the other hand, looked miserable.

She barely had anything on her plate, and even what she did have on there was more Cybertronian or Camien looking and was only picked at before getting a look of not-quite-yet-extremely-close-to disgust.

Honestly, Starscream had thought he’d be the one to be the picky eater out of the three of them. To be fair, he only had one thing on his plate so far, some kind of white foam drink thing with liquid energon on top, and he was tempted to just have their bodyguard go across the street to get him something more edible, but at least he was actually eating it and planned on getting more once he finished. Windblade just kept grabbing something, nibbling on it, and then sitting there as she switched between staring at her food and giving Bee and Starscream fond looks. Starscream supposed that Windblade would have had far less exposure to foreign foods than him and Bee, what with being stuck on her little, backwater hick town of a planet for the vast majority of her life, and it seemed her open-mindedness had finally found its limits. 

Starscream smirked and planned on teasing her about it later as he turned back to his own plate for a while. He finished his drink quickly and then got caught up for a bit in a pattern of grabbing something, tasting it and being weirded out, and then eating the rest of it while chatting amicably with Bee and Windblade. The latter of the two looked grateful for the distraction talking brought, clearly throwing herself fully into the conversation in order to put off trying to eat more. Of course, the conversation eventually dwindled down a bit as Bee, the main chatterer in general, got distracted by the food again and they were once more left to the mercy of their plates.

For a bit, Starscream forgot completely about Windblade and her plight, losing himself in the weird and maybe gross yet strangely satisfying meal. It wasn’t until Bee was gushing to him about a jelly thing with a face on it that he witnessed what had to be the highlight of his night (and it wasn’t the jelly thing with the face, which was evidentially Bee’s highlight): Windblade had grabbed some flat, circular, fluffy looking thing from a stack going by and attempted to eat a large mouthful, only for her face to screw up in disgust. She quickly covered her mouth to hide her expression and glanced around, probably trying to see if anyone was watching her. Starscream looked away and pretended to be completely engrossed in his food and whatever Bee was going on about. By the time he glanced back at her, Windblade’s mouth had been emptied, but Starscream doubted she had swallowed the bite. The half-chewed-up lump on her plate weakly covered by other bits of food added weight to his theory.

Out the corner of his optic, Starscream could spot the Eukarian owners of the restaurant trying not to be obvious about watching them as they whispered to each other with unhappy looks on their faces. They’d probably been excited about having the ruler of what remained of their united races (and her two illustrious-in-their-own-ways predecessors, of course) patronising their establishment, only to see her spitting out their food. Starscream looked back at Windblade to see that she’d spotted them too, a hilariously guilty expression having formed on her face.

Windblade frantically grabbed something that looked a lot like an average Cybertron candy but big, fancy, and squishy and popped part of it in her mouth, clearly trying to make the owners feel better by going for something more familiar looking. It ended up not working out the way she’d hoped as she ended up giving the rest of whatever she had grabbed to a slightly concerned looking Bee and refused to look over at the now almost distraught looking owners. Instead she chose to shoot a glare at Starscream as he struggled to hide his snickers at her predicament. There was just something so strangely satisfying about seeing her so completely out of her element in such a harmless fashion. 

Starscream then saw one of the distressed owners walk over and whisper something in the audial of one of their chefs. Instead of being secluded in a private kitchen, the chefs were at the centre of the restaurant, preparing the food in front of the patrons and placing it on the conveyor belt. Watching them work was part of the overall experience; Starscream had gained some energon prep skills in his youth, back before he came to power and had to actually prepare his own food, but even he couldn’t boast in the face of these chefs and their talent. It was the skilled way they swiftly sculpted the energon and other ingredients into such elaborate shapes that was impressive. In fact, Starscream had to wonder if Windblade’s disgust was less about the taste, and more about how convincingly they’d made the food look organic. 

After the owner was done whispering, the chef promptly abandoned what they’d been doing and started gathering up a new set of ingredients. For the next couple of minutes, Starscream was torn between curiously watching the chef and watching Windblade be awkward, until the chef placed their latest concoction on the conveyor. None of the patrons proceeding them picked it up, and when Starscream got a good look at it, he could see that the chef had garnished it with a little sign stuck into the food that read _For the ruler of Little Cybertron_ with a smiley face drawn next to it. 

Starscream went back to smirking as he saw the rollercoaster of emotions flicker over Windblade’s face when she spotted it. She managed to nail down a weak smile as she took the food off the conveyor belt, and then tried to shoot a grateful, friendly look towards the owners, but Starscream thought she just looked as though she was trying to hide the pain. The offering appeared to be a sampler plate of various bite-sized morsels, none of which had appeared on the conveyor thus far. They all looked drastically different, and Starscream surmised that the chef had been asked to put together as wide an array of flavours as possible in the hopes that at least one of them would charm their glorious leader.

With some trepidation, Windblade picked up a round, kinda furry pink thing from the plate, and gave it a polite nibble. She then politely put it back down on the plate, agony peeking through her composed expression. She had much the same reaction to a wobbly orange thing and a spongy white thing. When she got to a shiny blue thing, she actually managed to eat the whole bite, directing a half-way convincing smile at the owners as she did so, but Starscream could tell that she’d finally found something that was merely tolerable, as opposed to actually enjoyable. The last sampler left on the plate was a slimy, almost tentacle-y looking black thing, and Starscream watched Windblade steal herself as she raised it to her mouth. She took a tentative nibble at it, and her optic ridges raised in surprise. She then pushed the rest of it into her mouth, her eyes wide and a genuine smile spreading across her face as she chewed in happy astonishment. 

The owners practically danced in response, and it only took a moment for the chef to start loading the conveyer belt up with plates of the black slimy stuff. Windblade enthusiastically plucked them off as they went past, and promptly scoured them of food. Her gusto was in no doubt part relief and partly performative for the sake of the owners and chefs, but Starscream could tell that she genuinely really liked the food as well. He noted that no one before them had taken any plates of the black slimy stuff; perhaps they had paid attention to this entire affair and understood that the food was meant for their leader. Starscream didn’t even think to try it himself, he was too busy watching Windblade eat it. As fun as it had been watching her squirm uncomfortably, he had to admit to himself that it was a whole other flavour of satisfying seeing her sincerely happy as well.

Suddenly, Bee burst into laughter with a look of recognition and delight, where moments before there had been one of confusion as he’d been eyeing the food Windblade had been scarfing down. His giggles only increased with the weird looks he was given by Windblade and Starscream. After several moments of wheezing at what appeared to be the food, Bee finally recovered enough to inform Windblade that she was eating an Eukarian junk food that was most commonly eaten at fairs and such, while she was eating it in a fancy restaurant. Starscream didn’t get what was so funny about that. It was kind of amusing, but not really anything to get him laughing out loud. At least until Windblade shrugged off the laughter and went back to stuffing her face and Bee leaned over to whisper something that had him snorting.

“Trust me when I say that she really doesn’t want to know what it’s made of. Organic themed energon was bad enough, learning Eukaris has edible insects might have her giving up on life entirely.”

***

The trio wandered through the nightlife of Little Cybertron, passing a street performer ejecting a pair of cassettes into the air above them. The cassettes transformed into twin minibots, who did creative mid-air acrobatics together as they rose and fell, their bright and numerous biolights cycling through rainbow colours as they tumbled through the night sky. Meanwhile, their similarly flashy host breakdanced beneath them by doing a bunch of creative half transformations, before finally fully converting to boombox mode and catching them as they turned back into cassettes. 

Interesting and alluring smells wafted from restaurants representing the array of cultures that had made up Cybertron and the colonies, while noisy hawkers stood by the doors and yelled at passers-by as they tried to tempt them inside. Muffled music could be heard coming from bars and nightclubs that rowdy drunks stumbled out of, their hands (and in one case, tentacles) groping at each other clumsily and eagerly as they giggled and snorted and ducked into alleyways.

One of the neon lights that lit up downtown caught Windblade’s attention, and her countenance lit up just as brightly, “Karaoke booths!” she practically squealed. “It’s been _years_ for me, we have to!”

“ _Definitely_ ,” Bumblebee agree with a grin, as he gazed fondly at the excitement on Windblade’s face.

“-not,” Starscream added with a shake his head, prompting the other two to break out into a chorus of boos as they then proceeded to grab and manually steer him towards one of the booths while he grumbled and whined the whole way.

Windblade was practically vibrating with excitement when they sealed themselves within one of the booths, and immediately started scrolling through the available options. 

“Well at least I get to see you two make fools of yourselves,” Starscream said as he crossed his arms petulantly and took a seat.

Windblade paid him no heed as she continued to peruse the song list with laser focus. Her scrolling suddenly stopped when she came across a song that hit her with a wave of nostalgia. The lights dimmed and the spotlight centred itself on her as she lifted the microphone to her lips and a sweet melody started to ring through the booth.

Windblade’s singing voice was ethereal, like the wind gently ringing through the Crystal Spires of Vos at sunrise. It had been the feature she had been most recognised for in her early youth, and her elders had pushed her to become a professional performer. She had let it get to her head at first, but it hadn’t taken long for her to realise that it was not the life she craved. She’d wanted to be more proactive about helping her people and changing their world, which was something she couldn’t achieve as a pretty songbird kept in a gilded cage to be gawked at. That was when she’d resolved to become a Cityspeaker, much to her elders’ chagrin. 

Nonetheless, while she had long ago decided that she didn’t want to completely dedicate her life to music, that didn’t mean she hadn’t always still loved to sing. She usually sang to herself softly as she worked, or when relaxing at home. She only did it when she thought she was alone (save for Metroplex), but occasionally she’d catch Bumblebee, Starscream or Chromia watching and listening to her after having silently snuck into the room. She always caught Bumblebee watching her intently with wide, shining optics, and moment she spotted him, he would always brake into enthusiastic applause or gushing compliments about her voice. Windblade would have found it embarrassing if it wasn’t so sincere and encouraging. If she was fast enough at catching Starscream watching her, she would see him staring at her with an entranced expression, which quickly turned into a smirk the moment he realised she’d noticed him. It was like he wanted to pretend that he’d caught her doing something embarrassing, when really she knew that she’d caught _him_ doing something he didn’t want to admit to. If Chromia got noticed, she always just asked Windblade why she’d stopped singing, and usually would then just walk over and sit down or stand next to her, and prompt her to continue.

 _Inner Light_ was a song that had resonated with Windblade since she had been very young. It had been a relatively modern song, composed around the time of her forging, and while she’d been encouraged (when not outright instructed) to focus on the old hymns and ballads about Solus and Primus, she had included the song in her youthful performances whenever she could. As she sang it once again, the aural beauty of her talent was enhanced by the genuine passion she injected into her performance, filling the karaoke booth with a truly enchanting sound.

_There’s no road and I can feel,_

_The deepest chill of the darkest night,_

_But I have not lost my way,_

_I walk the path of the inner light._

_Take my hand and let us see,_

_That our sparks pulse with the same frequency,_

_The flame within shall burn bright,_

_And keep us warm as we walk the night._

The moment the music faded out, Bumblebee broke into enthusiastic clapping, whooping and honking. Starscream applauded as well, in a far more understated way, but Windblade knew him well enough by now to recognise the subtle expression on his face as his guarded way of showing that he had been emotionally moved. It filled her with no small measure of pride to know that she could elicit such a reaction in cynical old Starscream. 

Bee then grabbed a microphone and started looking through the songs, making his choice with an emphatic “ _yes_ ” when he found one that he liked. An ignition noise filled the booth, quickly followed by loud and boisterous synths. 

“Back me up Windblade!” he hissed as he shoved a microphone back into her hands, and she didn’t have time to argue before the first lyrics, or rather shouts, of the song began.

Just as Bee had never shied away from human car washes, he’d never shied away from human music either, and he’d grown especially fond of pop music from the decade they called the 80s, regardless of how strange some of the lyrics sounded to (or coming from) a Cybertronian.

“ _Hey! You!_ ” Bee bellowed into the microphone. “ _Get into my car!_ ”

“ _Who me?_ ” Windblade replied, reading the words of the completely unfamiliar song off the teleprompter, the confusion in her voice 100% genuine.

“ _Yes you!_ ” Bee yelled back. “ _Get into my car!_ ”

Starscream buried his grin behind a facepalm and started vibrating on the spot with barely suppressed laughter, as he watched Bumblebee shamelessly start belting out the human lyrics in a singing voice quite well suited to them, while Windblade could only haplessly follow along as teleprompted.

_I'll be the sun shining on you,_  
_Hey Cinderella step in your shoe,_  
_I'll be your non-stop lover,_  
_Get it while you can,_  
_Your non-stop miracle, I'm your man!_  
  
_Get outta my dreams!_

_Get into my car! (Get into my car)_

Bumblebee bounced on the spot as he sang and gave his horn a couple of beeps in time with the music, while Windblade just accepted and embraced that she was required to sing the lyric “Get in the backseat baby” – whatever that meant exactly. Bumblebee was clearly having the time of his life, and that made her more than happy to indulge his more bizarre, xenophilic tastes.

_Get outta my mind,_  
_Get into my life,_  
_(Ooooooh)_  
_Oh I said hey (Hey) you (You),_  
_Get in to my car!_  
  
_Lady driver let me take your wheel,_  
_Smooth operator,_  
_Touch my bumper (Bumper),_  
_Hey, let's make a deal, make it real,_  
_Like a road runner,_  
_Coming after you,_  
_Just like a hero outta the blue,_  
_I'll be your non-stop lover,_  
_Get it while you can,_  
_Your non-stop miracle,_  
_I'm your man!_  
  


By the end of the song, Starscream had broken out into an uncontrollable fit of giggles, which continued until Bee tried to shove a microphone into his hand, “Ooooooh no, I’ve been subjected to more than my fair share of humiliations throughout my life, I’m not going to willingly submit myself to any more.”

Windblade quirked an optic ridge, “ _Please_ ; I’ve spent enough time as your partner in both politics and the berthroom to know that shame is a foreign concept to you.”

“Even I have standards,” Starscream retorted.

Windblade and Starscream started to bicker, before Bumblebee chimed in, “Hey, it’s alright, if Starscream thinks singing karaoke is the most embarrassing thing that can happen to him tonight, then that’s ok, he doesn’t have to.” Bumblebee’s was using his cordial diplomat’s voice, but as he spoke, he shot Windblade a look that overflowed with wicked conspiracy. Windblade got the signal loud and clear, and returned an even eviller expression in response.

“ _Well_ ,” she said, “there’s nothing stopping _us_ from carrying on singing, is there Bee?”

“Certainly not,” Bee replied, already scrolling through the music list with a clear sense of purpose, waves of a very particular flavour of malice radiating off him.

Starscream could tell that something was very wrong, and when the first couple of notes of the song Bee had selected started to play, a quiet, horrified, little “ _no_ ,” escaped his lips, as he realised that he’d let himself be led into an ambush.

Windblade brandished her microphone like a torturer’s implement as she raised it to the sadistic smile spreading across her lips, and started to sing. 

_I see you racing through the sky,_

_Such a lovely shooting star,_

The syrupy pop music and schmoopy lyrics washed over Starscream like corrosive acid. Before he had a chance to consider an escape route, Bumblebee swept in with an attack from his other side, crooning the next couple of lines.

_Oh pretty wings so high above me,_

_I wanna be wherever you are,_

Windblade played the part of the compassionate, selfless hero, but Starscream knew what she really was – an ambitious, competitive, player of mind and power games with potential for pettiness as deep as his own. This had never been more evident than when she fixed him with a predatory stare and twisted the proverbial knife in his metaphorical innards, by adopting a voice so sultry it crossed the line into farcical as she sang the next lines. 

_Hearing the roar of your engine,_

_Sends me into overdrive,_

While Starscream was renown across star systems for his defiance, he found the defiant look he tried to meet Windblade with start to waver, and then finally crumble when Bee belted out the following lines like a Cybertronian Tom Jones.

_When I feel the heat of your thrusters,_

_You make me glad to be alive!_

They then went in for the full assault as they joined together to very loudly, enthusiastically, and melodramatically sing the chorus to the cheesiest, most jet-thirsty pop love ballad of Cybertron’s Golden Age. 

_Oh soaring sparkshine so sublime,_

_How I need to make you mine,_

Starscream could only bury his face in his hands to spare himself the sight, but he couldn’t block out the assaulting sound. Windblade and Bee pressed up against him from each side, trapping him up against the wall as they serenaded/tormented him. He just wanted to collapse under the weight of his own cringe like the Crystal City singularity.

_I’d give my forever to you without regret,_

_My gorgeous, shining, darling jet_

Starscream had experienced a wide variety of tortures over the course of his life, but this one was especially cruel and unusual. The _worst_ thing about it was that it was having some kind of insidious, Stockholm Syndrome-esque effect on him: to his utter horror, some disgusting, _sentimental_ part of him that he refused to accept was actually _enjoying it_.

_I’d give you my spark to keep just to feel your touch,_

_All because I love you so much._

The poppy, soppy music mercifully faded out, and Starscream peered through his fingers to see Windblade and Bee looking far, _far_ too smug and pleased with themselves. That simply wouldn’t do.

Starscream snatched the microphone out of Windblade’s hand, “ _My turn_ ,” he hissed.

He started scrolling through the song catalogue with a look of vindictive determination, and then pointedly made his selection. He raised the microphone to his lips as, much to Windblade and Bumblebee’s surprise, the gentle notes of an Earth piano started to fill the booth. Starscream frequently belittled other species, especially organic ones, but he nonetheless tended to absorb and reference relatively obscure and random elements of alien cultures, usually from the worlds he’d been sent to infiltrate during the war. Bumblebee and Windblade both would have liked to think that Starscream’s speciesism was just a front he put on to fit in with the chauvinistic culture of the Decepticons, but they knew him well enough to know that _some_ of it was unfortunately genuine. However, ever since they’d made their long-term home on an organic planet, and Starscream had been spending more time amongst the Dire Wraiths, his prejudices had seemed to be gradually softening. Perhaps he was getting to the point where he was willing to be open about enjoying aspects of organic cultures. On the other hand, his song selection was probably part of whatever mind game this had turned into, so they’d just have to wait and see. 

Starscream’s singing voice possessed the same characteristic scratchiness of his speaking voice, but that just added an interesting texture to what was a fairly pleasant sound...so long as he didn’t attempt any high notes (which the song he’d picked thankfully didn’t seem to have). Bumblebee and Windblade had heard Starscream sing before – Bumblebee in various, often rather strange contexts over the four million years they’d known each other, while Windblade had mainly caught snippets when he’d adopt his mocking singsong voice, or when they were all drunk enough to descend into sing-a-longs. However, neither of them had ever heard him sing with such _softness_ before – if his goal was to catch them off guard, he’d pulled it off. As for the words themselves...they really didn’t know what to make of those at first.

_You grew on me like a tumour,_  
_And you spread through me like malignant melanoma,_  
_And now you're in my heart,_  
_I should've cut you out back at the start_

In much the same ways humans would sometimes describe an annoyance as “grinding their gears”, Transformers that spent enough time around organics would sometimes use organic metaphors. It was something Starscream very, very rarely did, so hearing him use the terminology so heavily was strange and rather out of character, but Bumblebee and Windblade started to get the sense that that was the point.

_Now I'm afraid there's no cure for me,_  
_No dose of emotional chemotherapy,_  
_Can halt my pathetic decline,_  
_I should've had you removed back when you were benign_

There was the characteristic snark and thinly-veiled insults, and the uncharacteristic organic metaphors, but they both served the same purpose – to mask the emotional sincerity that lay beneath. Starscream didn’t make optic contact with them as he serenaded them, instead looking over their heads as though he were performing for a much larger audience, of which they were merely the front row. It would be easy to just write it off as Starscream’s grandiosity, but Windblade and Bumblebee knew him better than that by now.

_When we first met you made me simmer and sneer,_  
_But my armour was no match for your poison-tipped spear,_  
_You are wedged inside my chest,_  
_If I tried to take you out now I might bleed to death_

Bumblebee and Windblade watched in strange captivation as Starscream performed without any of his signature melodrama – not to say it wasn’t a dramatic performance, but the drama stemmed from seemingly sincere emotions, wrapped as they were in the bizarre lyrics. Starscream had told them that he loved them before (though it was hardly something he said often), but this was the first time he’d ever directly expressed such a raw and vulnerable attachment to them. Well...maybe it wasn’t quite _direct_ , but it certainly was some kind of first. 

_You grew on me like a tumour,_  
_And you spread through me like malignant melanoma,_  
_I guess I never knew,_  
_How fast a little mole can grow... on... you_

As the song faded out, Starscream finally made optic contact with them, with an expression of...challenge? Like he was challenging them to make the next move in the weird romantic power play they’d entered into? 

...or perhaps he was challenging them to throw his vulnerability back in his face. Bumblebee and Windblade were both deeply aware of the traumas that had made Starscream lock his tender emotions up so tight, and understood that even now, there was a part of him that expected them to viciously betray the trust it had taken them so long to foster in him. 

Windblade stood up and put her hand on top of the microphone that Starscream still had held up to his face, and gently pushed it down as she leaned in towards him. Her painted lips pressed a soft kiss against Starscream’s mouth, which he returned after a brief moment of stillness.

“Nice to hear you finally admit that there’s no getting rid of us,” she murmured with a tiny smirk. It was unclear if it was meant to sound like reassurance or a threat. 

Starscream looked down to see round, blue optics gazing up at him from beneath his turbines, as Bee wrapped his arms around him and clung to him as closely as the tumour he’d just been compared to, “Oh he’s known that for a long time,” Bee chimed in, “just as we long ago accepted that there’s no staying away.”

“The three of us are a package deal,” Windblade agreed, as she hooked one of her own arms around Starscream, and wrapped the other around Bee. 

“ _Sickening_ ,” Starscream murmured in response, his voice overflowing with contentment and affection.

***

The soft light of the private room in the vapors bar was further dimmed by the smokiness that filled the air with a literally intoxicating smell. In the centre of the room was a beautifully crafted smoking device made of mottled, multicoloured stained glass, to which hoses were attached. The ends of two such hoses were held by Bumblebee and Windblade, who took periodic puffs, while Starscream had a third hose simply hooked directly into one of his plentiful vents. The fragrant smoke seeped out of each and every vent from his head to his legs, a sight that had elicited giggles from both Windblade and Bumblebee at first, which had turned into fits of hysterics as the smoke took its effects. They’d eventually settled down as a calm euphoria replaced the initial mania, and they’d curled up on either side of Starscream, inhaling as much smoke from his shoulder vents as their own hoses. 

Due to stress of their positions and the baggage of their pasts, moments of true tranquillity were very few and far between for the three of them, but this was one of those moments. It was a testament to how much Starscream trusted their bodyguard (and the security of the establishment) that he allowed himself and his lovers to slip into a such a state of peace together, the troubles that usually kept them on guard seeming so distant for once. The warm glow that Starscream usually felt when Bumblebee and Windblade pressed up against him was magnified by the sweetness of the smoke, becoming a loving radiance that enveloped him completely. 

It had been a _very_ good night, and while the smoke contributed to their high, it was hardly the sole source of it. They shared a spark-deep sense of joy and contentment that stemmed from something real, that the drug could only enhance, not create. The three of them had struggled through so much together, helping one another when they were each at their lowest. But it was nights like this that proved that their relationship could not only endure and deepen during the dark times, but it could also flourish when the opportunity for happiness and growth presented itself. Their connection made them each better and happier, through both the good times and the bad.

In another hour, they’d have to emerge from the peaceful little world they’d secluded themselves within, clear their processors, and return to their duties. Windblade had speeches to write, Bumblebee had meetings to attend, and Starscream had conspirators to catch. Out there they had heavy responsibilities weighing down on them, and enemies who sought to subvert them, but they also still had each other, and knowing that made the harshness of the universe outside so much easier to face. They would work through whatever struggle was thrown at them together, and when they were done, they would have this time that belonged to just them once more, to savour and cherish like the precious treasure it was. It had been a good night in what was finally, for each of them, a good life.

**Author's Note:**

> The Earth songs sung are [Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zNgcYGgtf8M) by Billy Ocean, and a slightly modified version of [You Grew On Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=frNpdG4F9mw) by Tim Minchin.


End file.
